and he studied the man harder. A jolt shocked through him. It was the slight drag that tipped him off. This guy reminded him of the man who had killed Tim Preston. Jake was sure of it. It had been dark and he hadn’t gotten a really good look at his face, but that slight drag. He chased the guy but couldn’t get a hand on him. He’d disappeared, but that limp stuck in his mind. He’d scoured the area for the perp afterward and looked at every mug-shot book available, but was never able to identify the drug dealer. He would remember his voice for sure. He’d heard it through Tim’s mic.
The man came alongside them and Jake watched him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clay stiffen and look down. Jake heard the gunshot again in his mind, the sound deafening in the quiet night. The anguished sound Tim made as he was hit, then the thud of his body as he’d fallen to the concrete. The sound of running footsteps. Then Tim’s labored breaths. He’d whispered through the pain, “Tell Jen I love her.” Then one long breath as he’d died.
The horse, Thundersparks, made a soft whickering sound, bringing Jake out of his thoughts. He’d endured a lot within the last few years, losing his brother and then the rookie. This job was bringing up a lot of baggage.
Henry drew closer and she dropped her head to snuffle around at his hands.
“Treats after you work a bit, my pretty,” he said. Jake thought Henry’s voice, the deep nasal quality of it, seemed familiar. Could he be the guy who had killed Tim? Jake would have to keep his eye on him. He was undercover and he didn’t want to blow it, and second, he at this point had no proof.
He would bide his time and watch this lowlife like a hawk. The man opened the stall door and clipped one of the lead lines to the halter, led the horse out and cross-tied her close to the open door to the paddock.
He moved to another stall door and haltered the horse inside. As he led the horse out, his gaze connected with Jake’s and in addition to a flash of something in his eyes before he masked it, there was something dark, something evil and it stirred Jake’s protective instincts like nothing else he’d ever known. Rage rose up like a beast inside him, wild, rabid, unchained. He fought it with everything he had, managing to wrestle that monster down and remain calm. He nodded once in greeting.
As the man passed with the big buckskin gelding, Alanna said, “Henry, could you work Damsel, too? She’s due to be bred and it’ll be good for her to get a bit more exercise.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Henry said.
“Jake, this is Henry Swango. This is Jake McCord. He’s training Zorro.”
“Better you than me, mister. That’s one crazy horse.”
Jake forced himself to take the hand Henry offered, but made the handshake brief.
Tamara came into the barn. “Alanna, could I have a few minutes?”
“Clay, maybe we better save this lesson until later.”
“Sure,” he said, but Jake could tell the teenager was disappointed.
“I could do it,” Jake said before he thought better of it. It was uncanny how much Clay reminded him of Matt. That might have been what was motivating him, but he hated to see the kid not get on a horse. There was nothing like riding.
Alanna said, “Are you sure, Jake? You weren’t hired to give riding lessons. If my brother...”
“You let me handle that. I’ll take over until you get back.”
“All right,” she said and walked out with Tamara.
Henry moved on after a glance at Clay who scowled and looked away. He headed toward the rear paddock, then paused and looked back at Jake as if he was making sure he either recognized him or didn’t. He slung a halter on a hook by the next stall door and leaned inside. “I’m coming for you next, your ladyship, so no point trying to play invisible.” Henry chuckled as he continued to the end.
“Let’s take her out to the paddock,” Jake said, moving up closer to Clay. “You’ll want to choke up on the lead rope and take her halter, but just on the edge. You don’t want to get your hand wedged in there if she decides to bolt.”
“Bolt?”
“Yeah, but...” He indicated the horse.
“Lotus.”
“But Lotus looks very docile. Aren’t you, girl.” The horse nickered softly at him again.
“She likes you.”
“She likes you, too.” Jake placed Clay’s hand on the halter and coiled up on the rope a bit. “You want to walk her to the center of the aisle. Stay just to the front of her forelegs, but to the side of her head.”
“Not out in front?”
“You can direct her with the rope, but I want you to stay where you can see if she’s reacting negatively to anything. You don’t want to be five feet ahead of her and have her spook or rear and yank you on your ass, or worse.”
Clay snickered. “No. Ass-yanking doesn’t sound like fun.”
Jake laughed. “It isn’t.”
“Says the guy with experience?”
“Hey, everyone has to start somewhere, me included.”
He was pretty sure Alanna was avoiding him. After dropping off those towels a few days ago and his attempts to get her to start to see him less as a stranger and more of a friend, he wanted some more alone time with her. But on this big spread it was hard to accomplish that with all the people who worked here, not to mention Alanna was constantly busy. He felt frustrated and not only in trying to corral Alanna, but his training with Zorro wasn’t going well and he couldn’t quite figure out why.
Most horses...all right, every horse he’d ever come into contact with, he could bend to his will, show him he was the leader and they would fall into line. Not Zorro. He fought him every step of the way. It had been three days and he still couldn’t get close to the animal. He kept moving away every time Jake approached. He’d even spent some time inside the paddock just letting Zorro get used to his presence.
“You think you can tame that stallion?”
“I believe I can.”
“And, that’s enough?”
He had to focus on the training. He wasn’t here for that, but the horse drew him and Jake wanted him to have a better quality of life. Right now he was wary of everyone. Just as Clay was. He was a lot like Zorro. Abused, lost, alone.
“Don’t underestimate the power of believing something will happen. I visualize it and keep an open mind. Anything is possible.”
Jake should focus more on why he was here and that was to get information about the family. He might have established motive for Alanna; she wanted to actually be in control, not to have to play second fiddle to her father and meddling brother, but he couldn’t seem to fully give over to the thought she masterminded her father’s kidnapping.
Clay snorted. “Right. That’s what adults say to encourage kids even when there’s not even a snowball’s chance in hell it will happen.”
